


Blood of My Blood

by Ellen Smithee (ellensmithee)



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Bloodplay, Incest, M/M, Sibling Incest, Vampire Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-12
Updated: 2011-04-12
Packaged: 2017-10-18 00:14:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/182877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellensmithee/pseuds/Ellen%20Smithee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damon and Stefan work out an issue or two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood of My Blood

Alaric was just getting into his car as Stefan arrived, keyed up from his date with Elena. He held up his hand in greeting as Stefan forced a smile on his face, fighting back the irritation. He liked Alaric, he really did, but it seemed he was over to see Damon almost every night now. They were practically joined at the hip.

Lost in thought, he shut the door to the house a little harder than he'd intended.

"Sorry!" he called as he turned to head to his room, unwilling to talk to Damon at the moment, especially after what had happened between them the night before. It was bad enough he'd spent the evening trying to deflect Elena's questions about his weird moods lately without having to deal with the person who was causing them.

"Where're _you_ going?" Damon was in front of him in a flash, leaning against the wall but managing to block Stefan's way at the same time. "Trouble in paradise? Didja fight with _Elena_?"

He was so gleeful at the idea that it took colossal effort for Stefan to keep from rolling his eyes.

" _No_. She has a test tomorrow. And so do I for that matter. Good night, Damon."

Stefan tried to push past Damon, but his brother stepped in his path again.

"Damon..." Stefan did roll his eyes then. "It's late. What do you want?"

"Attention," said Damon with a shrug. "And a drink." He splayed one hand on Stefan's chest, pushing him back down the hall. "Nightcap?"

Stefan sighed, but let himself be manhandled into the living room.

"Didn't you just have a drink with Alaric?" he asked, wincing inside when he heard the bitterness in his voice.

"So?" said Damon, pouring two glasses, then whirling around with a grin and holding one out. "Are you worried I'm developing a dependency issue, little brother? Because I'm pretty sure bourbon is the least of our problems right now."

"It's not the alcohol I'm worried about."

Stefan took the proffered glass and knocked back half of it before wandering over to the couch and sitting down. He stared into the fire with a frown. He wasn't sure _what_ exactly annoyed him so much about Damon's friendship with Alaric--maybe it was the way the other man immediately jumped whenever Damon demanded something of him and the way Damon just ate it up. Like there was something more between them than just being friends.

"Is it my charisma?" Damon said, hopping over the arm of the couch to sit beside Stefan. "I thought you were all secure in your relationship now."

Stefan gave Damon a sidelong glance, swallowing hard.

"Uh, yeah." He leaned away from Damon. "That's no danger to me. To us. To me and Elena. I mean, our relationship."

Damon turned to look at Stefan, leaning in closely. "Are you all right? Wanna talk about it?" He smirked.

Stefan gulped down the rest of the bourbon and jumped to his feet, moving quickly to the fireplace.

"There's nothing to talk about," he said, setting his glass down on the mantelpiece. He moistened his lips as he stared at his brother. Damon _did_ drink quite a lot of alcohol. Maybe Stefan was lucky for once and Damon couldn't remember what had happened between them the night before.

Damon rose to his feet slowly, stalking forward as if Stefan were the most delicious kind of prey. He didn't stop until he stood so close that Stefan felt as though he'd suffocate.

"Come on, Stefan," he said. "You wanna hug it out?"

Stefan folded his arms in front of his chest, his stomach tightening as Damon pressed against them.

"No, thanks." He swallowed hard as he gazed into Damon's eyes. "I'm good."

Damon's mouth was suddenly hovering over Stefan's throat. He did remember. _Of course_ he remembered.

"Good," Damon breathed, hot air skimming over Stefan's neck and shoulder. "You don't feel _good_. In fact, I'd say you're pretty tense all over. What's it gonna take to get you to relax a little bit? Rick did, you know. And he's got all kinds of relationship shit going on."

Rage flashed through Stefan at Damon's intimation that he and Alaric were doing the same thing he and Damon were doing--had done--were never doing again--and he sprang into action, shoving his brother away from him with a violent shove, sending him flying across the room.

"Fuck _off_ , Damon!" he snarled as he headed to the stairs.

Damon laughed, a dark, infuriating sound, and Stefan thought he'd get away clean, but as he reached his bedroom doorway, Damon was there, just behind him, and Stefan could feel his brother's grin without turning around.

"Bedtime already, Stef?" he said. Without turning around, Stefan mentally traced the path Damon's tongue took across his upper lip. "You're not playing hard-to-get tonight, are you?"

Stefan pressed his forehead against the cool wood of the door, trying not to shiver at the puff of air at the back of his neck.

"I'm not playing at all tonight, Damon," he said, his voice low and tense. "I don't want to go back to... _that_. Fuck Rick if you need to get your rocks off, but leave me alone."

Damon stayed quiet for a few long seconds, then exhaled through his nose, and Stefan felt the cool scrape of fangs on the back of his neck.

"Are you _jealous_ of Rick, Stefan?"

Stefan's whole body tensed and he flexed and unflexed his fists.

"Don't be ridiculous," he growled. Grabbing the the door knob, he threw open the door and stalked into his bedroom.

Damon rushed into the room behind him, but overtook Stefan's pace, throwing himself down on the bed on his back, interlacing his fingers behind his head.

"Sore subject," he said, crossing his ankles. "Sorry. Of course you're not jealous of Alaric. That would be ludicrous. That would be like... me being jealous of... Elena. Oh, wait." Another smirk.

Stefan's jaw tightened. The comparison was just too... coincidental.

"So there _is_ something going on between you and Rick?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Damon adjusted himself on the bed. "I'll answer that. If you're willing to put all your cards on the table, too. So, when was the last time you fucked Elena?"

Stefan inhaled sharply and froze, just staring at Damon as he tried to read his brother. He sounded sincere, but it could just be another ploy of his to score an advantage with Elena.

"It's... been a while," he admitted finally.

Damon stopped moving, eyes narrowing as he watched Stefan carefully for a moment before speaking.

"Interesting," he said, his voice soft and low. He seemed to consider his answer for a moment. "I haven't fucked Rick. _Yet_." He shrugged. "He's clearly dying for it, though."

"Clearly," Stefan said dryly. He leaned back against his desk and watched Damon as well. He was surprised by how much he wanted to trust his brother, but so much had happened over the years that he didn't have much hope for them.

"What do you _want_ , Damon?"

Damon opened his mouth, then closed it again.

"Escapism," he said finally. "I want out of this fucking cycle, Stefan." He closed his eyes.

Stefan shook his head.

"I'm not the one who perpetuates it. You made your decision about how it was going to be between us all those years ago."

"Oh, yeah, I remember that. When I changed you and forced you to feed." Damon shook his head. "God, I was a real asshole, wasn't I?"

Stefan's jaw clenched.

"Yeah, well, sorry for wanting to spend an eternity with you. It won't happen again."

Stefan pushed himself off the desk and headed to the door. He was right. It _was_ hopeless and nothing he could do would ever change that.

Damon caught him at the door, throwing him up against the wall.

"You know what I really want?" he hissed. "I want you to stop pretending that _this_ is fucking normal." Damon was glaring, his body taut with anger and pressed hard against Stefan. "What are you going to do with her? Have babies? Raise a family? Bury them? You didn't want _me_ for eternity, Stefan. You just didn't want to be alone in your misery when you had to give up the things you really wanted."

"You think you know everything, don't you?" Stefan braced his hands on Damon's upper arms, digging his fingers into his brother's hard muscles. "I wanted to spend it with _you_ , Damon, not Katherine, not anyone else, just _you_. You're the one who didn't want _me_." His voice broke and he closed his eyes. "I get it, Damon. I got it years ago. I just don't know why you won't let me move on."

Damon's fangs came out then, dark veins mapping his forehead as his eyes went stormy and black.

"You've got no fucking idea, Stefan," he hissed, and he ground against Stefan's hip. "There _is_ no moving on. Not from this." His mouth hovered over the juncture of Stefan's throat and shoulder. "There's only distraction. I'm sick of distraction."

And then Damon's fangs pierced the skin, and Stefan wasn't sure which one of them was making that high-pitched keening sound as his nails drew blood on Damon's arms, warm wetness seeping through the fabric of Damon's shirt. He tore the flimsy material from Damon's shoulders and pressed against Damon's chest, smearing his fingers in the blood he'd drawn. He hooked one of his legs around Damon's hip and raised his hand to his lips, sucking the blood off his fingers with a deep-seated groan. Maybe it wasn't as nourishing as that of a living creature, but nothing had ever tasted as good to him as the blood from his brother's veins.

"Stefan," Damon said, the word thick through a mouthful of blood. Stefan shuddered against him. " _Stefan_."

Damon was tugging at Stefan's waist band, fumbling his jeans open and reaching inside.

Stefan whimpered as he felt Damon's hand on his cock, and he shoved down his jeans one-handedly as he licked the blood off Damon's deltoid and then up his shoulder to his throat, tearing it open with a fang. He moaned as blood poured out of the wound, covering his lips and chin with the taste and _smell_ of Damon.

"Damon," he breathed. "Need you."

He dragged his tongue up Damon's throat, spreading the blood, and then thrust it into Damon's mouth, licking his own blood from Damon's teeth. Stefan held him up, bracing against the wall, Damon squeezing his cock and bucking against his hip.

" _God_." Damon's voice was strained, and his hips jerked forward one more time, a violent, sudden gesture as he came inside his pants, fingers trembling on Stefan's prick. His tongue surging into Stefan's mouth, his weight became heavier against Stefan's body, Damon's presence becoming _consuming_.

 _This_ was what he'd wanted, this was what he'd _needed_ , and Stefan swore to himself that he wasn't going to give up so easily this time. He held Damon immobile against the wall, rutting against him as he sank his teeth into Damon's tongue. He drank deeply, tightening his fists in Damon's hair and pulling his head closer. His orgasm seemed to hit his entire body at once, and he clung to his brother until he'd ridden it out completely.

Shaking and out of breath, Stefan broke the kiss.

Damon went limp against the wall, sliding to the ground and pulling Stefan with him, slick and slippery with blood, reaching up with one hand to cradle the back of Stefan's head and pull him in.

"This is all we've got," Damon said, his voice hoarse and thin. "This is it. Everything else is gonna die." He licked Stefan's blood--mixed with his _own_ blood--from his lips, and Stefan wondered if he would ever _not_ taste Damon on his tongue again.

"Mine," he whispered against Damon's lips. He pressed himself as close to his brother as he could get without crawling into his skin and closed his eyes, content.


End file.
